Trade
by ArcherHana
Summary: A simple trade, or so he thought...


**Trade**

* * *

He felt it again, that sting so familiar: eyes focused somewhere behind his biceps, then slowly trailed to his chest before glancing away again.

The words directed at him always having the same meaning, only using a different excuse to get there. This time she babbled something about him catching a cold.

Really? She had much better ways to intimidate him

"I don't like it, so much skin being shown."

Heheh, there it was. He smirked, but careful not to show his teeth. That could come later.

"Too bad. I need this to impress everyone." These black eyes rested at his chest – much more subtler and much more swifter than normally – before meeting his eyes.

"Well, you've impressed me. Now fold them properly, please." Small hands took hold of his haori when he remained seated, tugging at the heavy material, chocking him.

"Stop it!" He wrestled away from her. She let him. She even ignored being manhandled. She must be in a very good mood.

"I am glad you haven't taught Kusajishi-fukutaichou the same...dressing manners."

"'Course not. I may be dumb, but not completely out of my mind... wouldn't want her to catch a fever and nag and choke me all week."

"And you are... exempt of this?" He narrowed his eyes. He didn't like the implication.

"I'm not a child anymore." These perfect lips looped up a bit, a sad glint in the normally so kind and warm eyes, not focused in the present, but dulled in nostalgia.

He didn't like to see that. And she _knew _that, too. God damn her for manipulating him, and god damn it for falling into the same trap over and over again.

Then he found the perfect way to shut her mouth _and _brighten her mood. "Fine, I will... if you let your hair down. "

He showcased his large rows of teeth, the eye not hidden beneath his eyepatch widening – constantly eating him, the mouths surviving only because he wished for it. He had won this round. This was a sure way to let her drop the subject. It always worked.

He was such a genius.

"All right."

His teeth clacked close, his left eye almost bulging out.

"Consider it a deal." The way she slowly straightened herself and neatened the creases from sitting – so efficient, yet so distant and too polite – pissed him off. It _almost _made him forget in what kind of bargain she had trapped him in.

"A Kenpachi never flees from an agreement." That smile, too sweetly and too frozen. That damned back of her and that mocking number sticking their tongue out at him _almost _made him want to launch forward and stop her. But as always, that swift sideways glance before she smoothly slid the door close shattered every dumb thing he experimented with her in his mind.

* * *

That sneaky woman surprised him. She may had sneaked in, but she might as well had charged in, effortlessly rendering every poor member of his Division useless and forcing him to listen to another one of these long, boring sermons of that old man about 'proper conduct in the esteemed Gotei 13'.

Every possibility would still have the same effects on him.

Before he could take a good look at her – yes, she was _that _fast – she was already bundling her hair in a loose ponytail in front of her.

"Cheat." Delicate fingers – in appearance only, though – smoothed long hair over her chest and middle.

"Certainly not. You haven't specified." He had never felt so happy and excited seeing her hair flowing around her, seeing her _obey_. And never so frustrated at having it snatched away too quickly. His hands itched to rip the band away, but he wouldn't want to risk his body restrained too easily and dumped somewhere forsaken for days...

Number four snickered at him. "I look forward seeing your end of the bargain." And just like that, he had fallen too hard in a hole she had prepared for him.

* * *

It seemed someone up there had taken pity on him. His next check-up was this week. A perfect chance at payback.

He had prepared everything – so strange this, he always charged in and improvised everything along the way. But this was one thing that needed a strange approach. And even weirder dressing code.

He fought through the itches on his chest, walking too slow to avoid any creases, and needed to remind himself again and again that he would put his precious bells back on as soon as he was done.

He bit back a laugh with a smirk he usually only showed when he could finally take off that itchy eyepatch. To think he would see _that _sight again. How long ago had it been?

"My end of the bargain. Deal's done now, right?" He never felt so content and smug and so damn smart for besting one of the most intelligent women in Soul Society – not to mention graceful, strong, beautiful, kicking ass without even holding that sword that almost towered over herself. He could take on _anything_, now. Horde of Vasto Lorde? He would kick their asses! That wrinkled old man pissed at him for slacking? He would shut his mouth before he could even feel the heat in the room. Every taichou against him? He would win without even trying! Well, but of course, she must be excluded, or otherwise, he would had lost before the battle had even begun.

"Your words weren't clear, too."

"You sneaky child..." He only shrugged, casually bared his chest and swaggered away – he even swayed his ass a bit, but that was because that damn Yumi had paraded like this too much for him _not _to have memorised the general movements. His hips froze when menace prowled behind him.

Oops. He thought he had forgotten something. Ah right, _that _part of her.

Fuck. How many days would he be held hostage here? Worse, his men would start to freak out when they couldn't find him – he had promised them a nice work out tomorrow – and would start making a fuss. How many times could she punish him again and again?

But on the bright side, he would have more than enough time to leisurely gaze at the hair how he preferred.

Free.


End file.
